


Eos

by thishazeleyeddemon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst with a Happy Ending, Consensual Daemon Touching, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships, minorly but still, so much talking. these guys never shut the fuck up, this lowkey queerplatonic Midam tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thishazeleyeddemon/pseuds/thishazeleyeddemon
Summary: Adam’s daemon grew with him, thank God - Kate wasn’t sure how they would have handled it, if he’d settled with a fully grown mountain lion from the start instead of the long-limbed, loping cub that was forever climbing onto the dinner table and swiping things down that Adam wasn’t yet tall enough to reach....In truth sometimes she wasn’t sure why Eos had ended up as a mountain lion - it was the height of rudeness to ask, of course, and besides she had already heard Eos answer an unsettled peer’s question with a scornful, “Because it was right, obviously.” It had to be, or Eos wouldn’t have settled as it - but she did wonder why a big cat, of all things, for her quiet son who held lost birds in his hands.
Relationships: Michael & Adam Milligan, Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57





	Eos

**Author's Note:**

> i am not immune to daemon au

Adam’s daemon grew with him, thank God - Kate wasn’t sure how they would have handled it, if he’d settled with a fully grown mountain lion from the start instead of the long-limbed, loping cub that was forever climbing onto the dinner table and swiping things down that Adam wasn’t yet tall enough to reach.

Some of the other kids were a little scared of him after Eos settled, and mostly Kate thought that this was silly. Adam was - not harmless, that wasn’t the right way to think about it, but gentle. She’d seen him hold baby birds, once, when they found a nest that had been knocked out of a tree or something and fallen onto the path. That image stuck in her mind somehow - Adam, kneeling in the hard, dusty earth, his small hands full of tiny birds with their fluttering wings and gaping mouths. He’d barely heard her call his name, mesmerized by the tiny lives in his palms. 

(She’d almost expected him to cry, when they took the birds to a wildlife rehabilitation center, but he didn’t - only watched solemnly as the worker there took the old shoebox they’d put the birds in, and asked questions about their species until she told him it was time to go.)

In truth sometimes she wasn’t sure why Eos had ended up as a mountain lion - it was the height of rudeness to ask, of course, and besides she had already heard Eos answer an unsettled peer’s question with a scornful, “Because it was right, obviously.” It had to be, or Eos wouldn’t have settled as it - but she did wonder why a big cat, of all things, for her quiet son who held lost birds in his hands.

(If she’d asked Rhonda Kelley, a tiny girl who went to Adam’s school who’d been bullied near-constantly - for her strange, slow manner of speech, for her old, patched clothes, for a million things that should never have mattered at all - until Adam Milligan had caught one of the popular boys harassing her after school one day and broken his jaw and his nose when he refused to stop, she might have had a better idea - but none of the participants in that little scuffle ever spoke of it afterwards, although Rhonda always sat with Adam at lunch after that.)

–

John Winchester knew it was stupid to put too much stock in daemons - he’d known damn good soldiers who had housecats or rats or doves or all sorts of things - but he couldn’t help but be a little pleased when he met the boy for the first time with that cougar by his side.

A nocturnal predator, a solitary hunter - of course it appealed to him. Of Sam and Dean, only Dean had settled, with a dog, some sort of strange bulldog mutt. He was big, but lazy, and spent most of his time asleep. The mountain lion was small, now, as lanky and skinny as the boy - Adam - himself, but it would grow, and John could see her when she was full-grown, pouncing on monsters to rip them to shreds -

Adam and Eos couldn’t have heard him, of course, but they looked at him when he thought that. Something about them, the strange, cold look on Adam’s face, the golden gleam of Eos’s eyes, gave him pause. (He knew enough to be wary in someone else’s territory.)

“I don’t like him, Adam,” Eos whispers to him later that night. A teenaged mountain lion cub was no small thing, and she ended up taking most of the bed. Adam slept curled around her, and often woke up with horrible bedhead from her grooming his hair when he slept. Right now, he sighed and buried his face in her fur.

“I don’t like him either,” and he hated how it felt like failure to admit that. “Did you see how he looked at us? It was like -” here twelve-year-old Adam’s language failed him. He fumbled, before saying finally, “It was like he wanted to _buy_ you. And I don’t think he’s a mechanic. He doesn’t sound anything like Rhonda’s dad.”

Eos licks his hair again, her great flat tongue wet and rough. “Well, we don’t need him. We’ve gotten on just fine with just Mom and Hyperion. Who needs him?”

(Hyperion was Kate Milligan’s daemon, a long cobra with beautiful brown scales. He often sat on Eos’s back in winter, and many a doctor or patient who wanted to disrespect her had been cowed by the sight of him coiled on her neck like a scarf, or the elegant fan of his hood.)

Adam sighs and strokes her back. “We don’t need him.” Then, a little petulantly, “I don’t even _like_ baseball.”

“Right? It’s like he doesn’t know us at all - oh wait, he doesn’t. Who needs him? We’ve always been fine on our own,” Eos says confidently. 

Adam scratches her ears, and feels a little better. “Always.”

–

Sam and Dean never met Kate Milligan - when they arrived in Windom, they got a story about her being out on vacation by their smiling third brother, his mouse daemon chittering on his shoulder. 

(There was only one ghoul to fight this time - cobra venom and a mountain lion’s claws had taken the other. He rubbed the marks on his chest and neck when the stupid Winchesters weren’t looking, still astonished that two humans, not even hunters, could have been so fierce, even if it wasn’t fierce enough to save themselves.)

The mouse had been a deliberate ploy, but it was what Sam and Dean remembered later, how tiny it had seemed as it ran up the false Adam’s arms. They couldn’t help but wonder if their real brother’s daemon had been so small, if that had been why John had chosen him instead - the daemon of someone normal, someone who wasn’t dangerous, someone he didn’t need to worry about.

Eos came as a shock, when they dragged Adam out of the grave a year later. Compared to Sam’s raven and Dean’s bulldog and Bobby’s Irish wolfhound, Eos at her adult size was the biggest of them all, all golden fur and golden eyes like the sun was caught in her flank. Dean can’t help but stare, as John did, wondering if this was the reason, if this sleek hunter out of myth was the reason John preferred Adam. 

(Much like John, Dean saw what he wanted to see. At the very least, he did not turn away from Eos’s cold yellow eyes.)

Adam felt twelve again, under all those eyes, and so he reached for anger instead - not that it was hard to, as these two claimed to be his _family._ Eos folded her ears back and bared her teeth when any of these people got too close - they had no right, but also Adam couldn’t forget the teeth ripping into him, not so very long ago. He could not have them be close. 

“They don’t want us to fight,” Eos told him later, as they paced back and forth in the dream of a park, the angel Zachariah supposedly out of earshot (but they didn’t trust that, and spoke privately as only human and daemon can). “But don’t we have to? Shouldn’t we help? All those people we could save if Lucifer died.”

“It would be hard,” Adam told her. “And dangerous. Maybe that’s why they don’t want us to do it.” It had been annoying to be caught by Sam, trying to sneak out (a task that was even harder for a mountain lion, maybe it was not a shock to have failed) but the eyes of his Asta had been kind.

“You heard Zachariah, they don’t care about anyone but themselves,” Eos argued. “You saw how they were looking at us. And even if it’s dangerous - shouldn’t we do it anyway? If we can help?”

Adam swallowed. He couldn’t pretend to not be scared, not to Eos, but they had never let fear rule them, not once. And the idea had an appeal - even if it was the Archangel Michael who did the actual fighting, it seemed a worthy cause to dedicate themselves to. They could help. Even if no one ever knew their names - well, it wasn’t like they were glory hounds, anyway. They could help. They could _help._

 _“_ We’ll be fine without them,” he says. “We’ve always been fine on our own.”

Eos nods. “Always, always.”

_–_

He and Eos scream as one as they bang on the door, the door that would not open. They hear Dean’s Benjamin barking as if it was a million miles away, as they call for help but _no one comes -_

They turn as one as the light descends, and they see -

–

Without Eos, Adam doesn’t know what would have happened to him.

She is the one real thing in this mental void that Michael has tossed him into. He clings to her side and focuses on breathing, on being unseen by the eldritch monsters fighting outside. He doesn’t know what Michael would do if he made too much noise, but he can guess, and he is _not_ ready to find out. The pain from Lucifer’s strikes is already enough -

Eos purrs, as cats, even mountain lions do when they need to soothe themselves. If he looks, he can feel the scars through her thick pelt. He has none where he can see, she carries them for him.

 _I’m sorry,_ he whispers, _I’m sorry, I’m sorry -_

 _My fault,_ she whispers back. _I thought they were telling the truth, it’s my fault -_

_–_

It is only during a temporary lull in their endless fight, when Lucifer finally staggers away to another side of the Cage to do whatever he does now that his plaything has been taken away, that Michael notices the other presence within the vessel.

Oh. The human is still here. How did that happen? He thought they’d gone to Heaven when the body had been destroyed the first time.

He steps within, to see what the human has been doing (he can’t risk him becoming a distraction, after all, if he needs to silence the human he will) only to find…

…a forest. 

A memory facsimile of one, anyway. It’s nowhere as detailed as the spaces in Heaven - he can see where the limits of human memory and perception have worn away details like the leaves on the trees and the color of the sky. Still, being in this image of an open space is a bit of a shock. He could almost imagine he’s on Earth, able to fly back to Heaven -

\- still, no use imagining. Father will get him out shortly, and then he can go to Heaven in truth. Imagination is useless. It serves no purpose. 

He feels the presence behind him immediately. When he turns, the human and his daemon are staring at him, eyes wide - or at least the human is. The daemon - some sort of little cat - has gone into a defensive crouch immediately, ears back, teeth bared, letting out a low, angry growl. 

The human swallows, and speaks. “What do you want?”

“What are you doing?” Michael asks instead. He doesn’t know what he expected. Madness, mostly, and maybe this human is a little mad. Certainly the way the cat is snarling suggests that. Only a madman would do such a thing.

The human tilts his head. He doesn’t answer immediately, instead looking at Michael carefully, obviously considering his answer.

“Did you expect me to stay in the dark forever?” The human says finally. “Eos and I figured out how to dream up some actual places.” He tilts his head, and says, “Why are you here?”

“We didn’t think you would notice us,” the cat - Eos? - continues. 

“Why this place?” Michael asks. He isn’t sure where this is a memory of, not enough detail.

“Well, it beats an endless, pointless war with my brother,” the human snaps, and then claps his hands over his mouth immediately. The cat presses herself down, her ears flat against her skull. 

“It is not pointless,” Michael snarls, and the human takes a step back. But even though the cat is still flat against the false floor, her pupils tiny dots, the human goes still. If not for the cat, Michael wouldn’t be able to tell he was terrified. 

“What is the point?” he asks finally. “At least I enjoy even some fake sun.”

And Michael - 

\- he wants to be angry, wants to rage and strike at the human for disrespect, but -

\- _what’s the point? -_

 _-_ he vanishes, back to the actual Cage. The sense of the human’s presence reduces, not simply because he’d left, but because the human is trying to hide, he suspects. He’s ~~ _point what is the point what_~~ terrified of him.

As he should be. And maybe if he stays there, they won’t have to speak again. Michael has _~~the point, what is the point Michael?~~ _more important things to deal with.

–

There is no time in the Cage, only before, now, and later, but Adam thinks it’s been a long time before he sees Michael again. 

This is a new dream. It’s a grey plane, right now, but Adam is proud of it, because he’s certainly never been here, and that means they can do new things. It means they have more to occupy themselves then the dark nothing they’d crawled out of, together.

Still, he is so, so glad for Eos - and she for him. He never takes his hand from her fur now, attached to the feeling of something warm and real. Nothing is real here, nothing feels right, but it’s not void, and that’s all he needs.

It’s been a long time, which is why he’s surprised to feel Michael’s presence grow, as the angel drops into his little dream. 

Eos growls and presses herself against him, but she’s quieter this time. They’re not as scared as they could be. Michael hadn’t hurt him last time, after all (and if he did, that would be something else real and concrete). Still, the fire of Michael’s presence is, at best, uncomfortable. 

“Hello,” he calls. 

The angel is looking around, confused. “What is this place?”

“It’s not a place,” Eos speaks up.

“We’re experimenting,” Adam tells him. “Trying to make new things.” His memories are faded, the real world slipping away like a dream - may as well make new ones, and stave off insanity a little while longer. 

The angel looks confused. “You…can do that?”

Adam blinks. “Do what?” 

“Make new things,” the angel clarifies, looking annoyed. Adam gets the distinct sense he’s being looked through. “You’ve never _been here._ How can you imagine it?”

Adam can’t help but stare at him, for a few long, long seconds, before smiling. He has no idea what he looks like. He extremely doubts it is friendly. “Of course I can make new things. That’s practically our whole deal, as a human.” He pauses for a few pointed seconds, before asking, in his best tone of innocent curiosity, the tone he used to ask authority figures like teachers awkward questions and never be scolded for it, “Can you make new things, Michael?”

Michael’s face goes iron-hard and cold, and Adam has just enough time to think that he made a mistake before Michael grabs him, slamming him down against the grey dreamstuff that makes up this place. Eos howls, a wild cougar scream that bores into his ears like a drill, but she doesn’t attack Michael - yet. She digs her claws into the ground and growls like a demon. 

“I could kill you,” Michael hisses. “I could pull you and your soul apart into _atoms._ You’re _nothing_.”

Adam’s ears are ringing with terror and Eos’s furious shrieks. He’s terrified, and he’s trapped in his own mind by something as strong as a solar storm. By all rights, he should be begging for mercy. 

Eos snarls, low and dark. 

He raises his head as best he can and looks Michael in the eyes. They’re like his, but too cold, too pale. When he isn’t focusing they shine an eerie, starlit blue.

He grins, and Michael pulls back a little. His face barely shifts, but Adam can tell, somehow, his surprise. 

“Am I?” Adam croaks. “And what are you, down here?”

Michael stops. His grip loosens, ever so slightly. There’s a moment of charged tension, before -

\- he’s gone.

Adam doesn’t get up, immediately. He bites his lip, and stares up at the nothing grey sky of this dream plane. Eos wraps herself around him and purrs, grooming his hair. He doesn’t remember when she started doing that again - she had stopped the first time when he was about fifteen - but he would hardly _stop_ her, now. 

“It’s okay,” Eos rumbles. “You have me. He’s all alone up there with the Devil, but you have me. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay -”

He buries his face in her neck, and tries to believe it.

–

It is not so bad, most of the time.

At least in here he has Eos to cling to, and a sort of sunlight, and new things to look at. Sure, he’s trapped in his own mind, in an inescapable Cage in Hell, but as long as Michael doesn’t come back, it’s okay. Or it isn’t, not really, but mountain lions can live anywhere from the Yukon to the Andes Mountains and he will live through this, he will survive, he and Eos _will not break so easily._ And if worst comes to worst and they do go mad completely, at least this isn’t wholly unpleasant, dreaming up new things to see.

It’s when they’re making a creature (”we could give it some sort of sacs,” Eos suggests, “And make a sort of living balloon,”) when there’s the sudden rush of heat that signifies Michael’s return. Eos runs to him immediately, taking up a defensive position in front - but Michael doesn’t look aggressive.

He looks surprised to see them, is the main thing. His face doesn’t really move, but Adam can _tell -_ how can that be? Is it a vessel thing?

Adam waits for him to talk, but he says nothing, merely continues to stare. Adam stares back, as cool as he can, and says, “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Why not?” Michael mutters, and his voice is different. “What else is there to do?”

Adam - well. It probably doesn’t count as a smile. He pulls his lips back from his teeth, and says, “Aren’t you fighting Lucifer?”

He expects Michael to leave, or snarl at him. He does not expect Michael to mirror his own expression back at him, and say, “What would be the point?”

To cover his own surprise, he reaches to pet Eos. But this - this is new. He pets Eos, and watches Michael. 

Michael shifts. He seems, of all things, uncertain. “What is that creature?” He peers at the creature that still bobs in the false air behind their heads. Adam looks at it, while Eos keeps her eyes fixed on Michael.

“I don’t know,” Adam says. “I haven’t named it, or decided what it should do yet. If it was real it would probably eat birds.” 

“This is what you’ve been doing for three hundred years?” Michael asks. Adam can’t decipher his tone. “Making these creatures?” 

Three - three _hundred -_

Michael takes a step back when Adam’s legs buckle. Eos steps forward to answer in his stead. “Three hundred years?” she asks. “How can that be? We had been here for a very long time when Sam was rescued.”

“Time is slower in the Cage. It’s only been two years or so on the surface,” Michael answers. “I forget how little you know of the world,” he adds imperiously. 

Eos snarls, and this time Adam takes over. “Why would we know more?” he points out weakly. “We’ve been around for so little time compared to you. Where would we have learned?”

Michael opens his mouth, a condescending look on his face, but to both Eos and Adam’s shock, shuts it with a click instead. “I don’t know,” he says, as if to himself. He looks troubled.

“If it bothers you that we don’t know, you could always educate us,” Eos points out. “We like to learn.”

Michael scoffs. “Teach a human?” 

“Like you said,” Adam tells him. “What else is there to do? And if you stay here with us, you can look at what we’re making.” He gets to his feet and pokes the dream creature. It collapses into a swarm of golden butterflies. Michael’s hair is ruffled by the false wind they stir up.. “Not that we could insist, of course.”

“We’re so much smaller, after all,” Eos says, winding her tail around Adam’s legs, venom in her voice.

“If you’d rather, you can always go back to fighting Lucifer.”

“We won’t bother you.”

“We’ll just stay here, making things.”

“Alone?” Michael says. “Stay here alone?”

Adam smiles at him. “We’re never alone,” he and Eos say together. Of course it is terrible, it is lonely to only have your daemon to speak to, but fuck him if this burning creature whose only talent is control gets to know that. They have so little. That can stay between him and Eos. “We can stay here and make things forever. You can never talk to us again, if you’d like.”

“It’s your choice,” Eos finishes.

They wait. Michael doesn’t move. His face is still, blank as a statue. 

Oh well. They offered. It’s not like Adam really expected him to take it. He shrugs, and starts to turn back around -

\- and Michael steps forward, and sits down on the ground, knees folded underneath him and hands on his lap like he’s about to pray. 

“Do you want to know how I made the Cage?” he says. His eyes meet Adam’s, and Adam understands - this is a challenge.

He walks over and sits down in front of Michael, cross-legged as Eos curls up behind him. “Absolutely.”

–

That was the start.

It was slow-going, not least because Michael seemed to want to wear them down. The first few questions he answered, he would start with technical, detailed explanations like he was hoping Adam would flinch away from concepts he didn’t understand, like he’d gone into pre-med because he wanted things to be _easy._

But he kept asking questions, pointing out things he didn’t understand, and slowly, it got easier. Slowly, Michael stopped trying to wear Adam down and started explaining in earnest, bubbling with pride when he taught Adam something hard. He even started offering his own ideas for things to dream up.

They talked so much. Eventually, they started talking of other things, their lives, their old work, Adam’s mother, although talking about Michael’s Father never went well. After all, they could tell he still thought he would get out some day. It seemed a little cruel to break that hope. 

Still, it was nice to talk to him. Now that he’d stopped looking at them like they weren’t there. He told them lots of things now, what it was like to live with so many people (they got the impression he didn’t like it much), things Raphael or Gabriel (never Lucifer) had done when they were small, that kind of thing.

(”What would you do if we were free?” Adam remarks to him one day. “Start the Apocalypse again?”

He’s expecting a yes, but somehow it’s not so surprising when Michael shakes his head. “The prophecy must happen, but I suppose there’s no reason why it has to happen soon,” he says carefully, like he’s testing the shape of the words. “I wouldn’t want to…waste the potential of my Father’s creation. We can wait longer.”

“Oh,” Adam says faintly. He isn’t sure what to think about that, except that it sounds like someone who has found the excuse they wanted to hear.)

“I’m bored,” Eos remarks to him one day. 

Adam eyes her uneasily. Boredom is a harsh mistress, down in the dark with no way out. “What’s wrong?” They’ve been trying to dream new things again - this time the hall where they’d gone to senior prom (but they just couldn’t get the placement of the decorations right - they just couldn’t remember -).

Eos sighs. “I want to talk to Michael again.”

Adam stiffens. “He’ll be back soon enough. I guess he just has to check on Lucifer, sometimes.” He’d somehow managed to convince Lucifer he was insane, something Adam would never have expected from him in a million years. He almost wishes he’d been out of his own mind to see it - almost. The Cage is rough enough for an archangel - Michael always comes back down exhausted and pained. Adam had enough of it all those years ago; he’ll stay down here.

Eos sighs again , low and aching. “I hate waiting for him.”

“Then don’t. Let’s make something else - I’m tired of this dance anyway.” Adam touches the wall, and the prom starts to come apart like morning mist. The trick was to expect it to happen.

Eos lays down and lowers her head onto her paws. “I miss him.”

Adam flinches. “We don’t need him. We’re fine without him.”

“Are we? Adam, you know we -”

“Of course we are!” Eos backs up at the look on her other half’s face. 

“Adam,” she says softly.

Adam ignores her. “We’re always fine on our own,” he tells her, as the dance hall continued to crack like brittle glass around them. “Always.”

“Always,” Eos echoes quietly. “Always.”

–

Of course, it couldn’t be easier for long.

Adam can’t _breathe._ He knows he doesn’t need to breathe, not now, but it feels like he has to, like his lungs are full of sticky, clinging sap, as his head spins and he gasps for air and nothing changes because the air here isn’t real.

And maybe he isn’t either. Maybe he’s a ghost, a shadow, maybe Michael was right and he is nothing at all because they _didn’t come._ They forgot him, they got the Devil out but they never even tried for him, and now the Darkness is free and he’s going to _die again_ down here in the dark and cold -

\- hands touch his chin, raising his head to meet eyes that are his but not.

“Kid?” Michael prompts. Adam doesn’t even remember when that started. He closes his eyes and scrambles back, trying to put some distance between him and Michael. Eos jumps between them, blocking Michael’s way (although of course he could move her if he wanted to).

“Adam?” Michael sounds confused.

Adam moans, covering his face with his hands. He’s going to cry, he realizes with horror. He’s going to start sobbing in front of Archangel Michael, he’s going to start sobbing like an idiot because they didn’t come and he’s stuck down here and no amount of dreaming can ever change that he won’t ever see the sun again - “Leave,” he says, barely realizing he’s begging. “Please, please go.”

“Why?” Michael crawls closer, only stopping when Eos lets out a warning growl. “Let me help you. Can I help you?”

“It’s not your problem,” Adam snaps. “We’re fine, we’ll be fine, we’re always fine -”

“I know,” Michael says quietly. “You’re very strong.”

That, especially coming from Archangel Michael, is enough to give him pause. He’s still crying, great rivers of tears flowing down his face. Is this what crying was like on the surface, or is this the memory of how it felt?

“I want to help you,” Michael tells him. “Please. May I try?”

“You don’t have to,” Adam says shakily. “Why do you want to?” _Why would you want to do this thing now? Why do you care?_ Eos has stopped growling. She stands silent as a statue, looking at Michael.

“Because you offered to show me things I’d never seen before,” Michael answers. “Because you’ve made me think about the world as no one has before. Because when I was lost, you comforted me when you didn’t have to. Because -” Michael falters, takes a deep breath. Adam wonders if it’s a gesture that actually calms him or not. 

“And because,” Michael finishes, “You’re all I have left.”

Adam can’t think. It feels like all of him is collapsing, held together by the thinnest of threads. He can only stare.

“If we are to be trapped here until the Darkness devours the world, we should not do it alone,” Michael says. “Please. Let me repay what you’ve done for me, even a little. Let me help you.”

Adam sucks in a breath. He can’t move - but it turns out he doesn’t have to. Eos moves for him, stepping forward to press her snout into Michael’s hand. Warmth blooms from the touch, spreading through Adam from her like a gentle hug.

For the first time in hundreds of years, Adam breaks down .

–

Castiel doesn’t know what to think of Michael and Adam.

It is common practice in Heaven to sever the daemons of vessels. It does not kill, but it leaves human and daemon quiet, shivering…biddable. He does not approve, of course not, but he doesn’t know what to think of this change. 

He remembers when Asta was hauled out of the Cage, a broken mess of Dust and feathers. He was expecting the same for Eos, or worse - for her golden fur to be dulled, her eyes blank, for the great cat to be at best, broken and unresponsive or worst, gone completely. 

Eos is scarred, yes. One eye is clouded, her sides littered with marks, the nature of which he recognizes from Asta. 

But she is active, alive, her tail thrashing behind her, and her visible injuries don’t prevent her from screaming when she sees the Winchesters, a wailing shriek that hurts to hear, and pressing herself flat to the ground like she wants to go for their throats.

Shockingly, she lets Michael touch her. Severed daemons are likely to simply not have the strength to object, but Eos winds her tail around Michael’s hands as the archangel strokes her back idly while he talks. It’s as if Eos was his daemon as well. It is…perplexing.

Benjamin risks taking a step too close, and Eos lunges immediately, snapping her jaws an inch from his throat and letting out a murderous snarl. After that, they keep their distance.

Shockingly, Adam is almost pleasant when Michael lets him speak to them. He smiles, even as they don’t reach his eyes. The only time he seems even a little sincere is when he speaks of his and Michael’s agreement. Or maybe it’s just his daemon, scarred and beautiful and bristling with rage, that’s making it clear how much his politeness doesn’t match his true feelings.

“Look, we bailed on you,” Dean says. “And there is nothing we can say, or do, to fix that.”

“Don’t bother,” Eos snaps before he can continue. “We don’t need you. We’re just fine, us and Michael.”

“Although you could say ‘I’m sorry’,” Adam adds drily, and Eos knocks her head against his hands and continues to glare.

A flash of light, and Adam steps back and Michael takes the foreground. “Enough,” he snarls, sounding awfully like Eos. “Why are we here?”

–

It is Michael’s turn for the world to come apart under his feet.

He cries, for the first time in billions of years he cries - for the years he wasted as a madman’s toy, for his brothers sent to the Empty on his word, for the yawning void of uncertainty that the future holds for him now - but he cries with Adam’s arms around him, Eos licking his hair and purring in his ear.

So it could be worse.

–

One thing Michael hasn’t even told Adam was an idle fantasy he had.

Unlike some daydreams he’s had with Adam in them, it is good that this one cannot be true. It’s disrespectful for their bond, for the love Adam has shown him - they aren’t literally the same person, no matter how close they are. It’s not a serious fantasy, born of idle thoughts and curiosity about what it’s like to be human.

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like if Adam was his daemon. 

Not really, most of the time. They aren’t literally the same person, after all, unlike Eos and Adam, one soul with two minds. He hasn’t seriously thought about it in years.

But now, flipping through bibles in a church named for him while a thunderstorm he can’t be bothered to suppress rages outside, he thinks on it again. Because Eos and Adam are the same person, they’re nearly impossible to separate. If Adam was his daemon, than maybe he wouldn’t have disappeared. Maybe there wouldn’t be this gaping wound in Michael’s chest, just like he’d been Severed.

His hands are covered with golden dust. He remembers how Eos had turned to him, eyes full of terror as her body started to disappear into golden light -

\- and then the Winchesters are here, and suddenly Michael has work to do.

–

Michael comes to again on the shore of a beach, the sound of the waves in his ears.

Then he realizes it’s not just the waves he’s hearing, but a steady thunder-like rumble in his ear, which is pressed against something warm and soft. 

“Do you know how long that took?” a voice - a wonderful voice, a beautiful voice a voice he never thought he would hear again - says. “Really, you just had to take a swing at him and get shattered, huh? You couldn’t have waited five more minutes?”

The voice is trying to be lighthearted, but is so full of joy and relief that it drips out of their tone like honey. Michael lunges in the speaker’s direction blindly, wrapping his arms around them tight. They squeeze back just as hard.

“There you are,” Adam murmurs. “There you are.”

There are other voices that are here. Michael can’t be bothered to even look, as Eos and Adam wrap themselves around him, purrs and quiet reassurances filling his ears. He doesn’t know what the world will hold for them from there, nor how he was brought back, but none of it matters. None of it matters now. He clings to Adam as relief fills him up like liquid light, as around them, the world turns to dawn.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> i literally never write as much as i have for Michael and Adam. gay angel and sunshine human make my brain go brrr
> 
> Eos is a dawn god, Hyperion was her dad. seemed appropriate
> 
> the one thing that's accurate about Eos to real cougars is she can purr. take nothing else


End file.
